Kingswood Is a Respectable Hipstaurant, Except for That Infernal Song

We’ve heard more than one person refer to Kingswood as the new Freemans, and there are similarities: A greeter in an anachronistic hat, a bucolic vibe care of the butterflies on the ceiling, and drinks in which Glenfiddich is “massaged” by figs. There’s even some clothier-restaurateur synchronicity, à la Freemans, since it shares ownership with Ksubi clothing store. But if Kingswood is going to be a true hipstaurant, it’s going to have to put an end to one thing.

Yes, those annoying choruses of “Happy Birthday.” They don’t exactly jive with herb-crusted rack of lamb, and yet we had to endure the song no less than four times during a recent dinner. Which raises the question: When the downstairs lounge opens later this month, will it have a ball pit and, to compliment the stuffed peacock named Gorgeous George, a giant stuffed rat named Chuck E.Cheese?